Shirelings
by HeavenlyTook
Summary: The tale of the lives of four young hobbits, their friends and families, and the experiences they face growing up.
1. The Story of Drogo and Primula

Primula Brandybuck was a bright, lively and pretty young hobbit, though she was considered 'wayward' and 'not proper' by many who knew her. She was prone to letting her words tumble out of her mouth without pause, often insulting people in the process. She was known for her sky-blue eyes and light brown curls which shone in the sunlight, and she was witty and keen-sighted, and generally she was rather pleasant. Despite her sometimes insolent and stubborn attitude, she was extremely caring and had a kind heart.

It was her loving nature and cheerful personality that made Drogo Baggins fall in love with her. Drogo was a respectable chap, rather handsome and friendly, though he was partial to his vittles, and like most hobbits ate and drank a lot, and often. He was fond of pipe-weed and ale, and was funny and cheerful and well liked by all who knew him.

He would often visit Buckland so he could see Primula, and she always seemed just as pleased to see him. When she was still in her tweens they were close friends, and Drogo found his love for the young lass increasing with each day, though this didn't stop him from charming other young hobbit women. They would go boating sometimes on the Brandywine River, which was something that Drogo was not initially fond of, being a hobbit of the Shire. Nevertheless, he adapted to the ways of the Bucklanders to spend time with his dear Primula, and in time he was familiar with their customs.

It was late in the year 1362 (by Shire Reckoning) that Drogo asked Primula to marry him. She accepted gladly, as she had loved him for many years, and they were both of age. Primula was now into her forties, and Drogo in his mid-fifties; they were both very much ready for marriage, and neither of them wanted to delay it any more than they had to.

Drogo moved from his home in the Westfarthing of the Shire to Brandy Hall in Buckland, where Primula lived with her family. There he became good friends with Primula's eldest brother, Rorimac, and her father Gorbadoc (Broadbelt, as he was known), the old Master of Buckland. Drogo also became close to Rory's two tweenage sons, Saradoc and Merimac, as well as Primula's other brothers and sisters.

They married the next spring. The ceremony was remembered fondly by all for the excellent food and wine, the jolly music and dance, and the warm sun that shone down upon them. The cheer was short-lived, however, as Gorbadoc died in the following months, passing on the position of Master of Buckland to his firstborn, Rorimac. Primula and Drogo grieved for a short time, though Gorbadoc's passing was not hard to accept for them, considering his age and the happy life he had lived.

In the next few years Drogo became closer to the Brandybucks and learnt more of their curious customs, the like of which were seen as very strange in the Shire. He still kept in touch with his own relatives, including his cousin Bilbo Baggins, who was his close friend despite their differences. There was something about Bilbo that interested Drogo – something about his odd tales of adventures in foreign lands – though he never spoke of it.

In the year 1368, Primula became pregnant. Her family rejoiced and Drogo seemed overjoyed at the news. They celebrated, and as the year went by Primula was congratulated by hobbits from all over the Shire, even some she didn't know. Primula gave birth to a son on the 22nd of September that year; a boy with dark curls and pale skin like his father, but he had his mother's bright blue eyes. They named the child Frodo, and he was loved and cherished by all.

Frodo grew to be a smart young boy, although he was also very mischievous, getting into trouble often. He loved his parents dearly and was also very fond of his Uncle Rorimac, who treated him as affectionately as he had treated his own sons. In his early years the boy would run off and cause mischief, and he soon developed a reputation for being a troublemaker. But this did not lessen his family's love for him.

One night in 1380, when Frodo had just turned twelve years old, the Brandybucks had a large dinner together to celebrate the birth of Berilac, Merimac's son. There seemed to be a certain tension between Primula and Drogo that evening, and it was noticed by many. The table was awkwardly quiet, with only the children to liven the mood.

They were starting dessert when Primula rose from the table and let out a long sigh.

"I'm going out," she told them, and she stared over at Drogo, "I need some air."

As she left the room, everyone turned to Drogo, who looked thoughtful and a little troubled. He put down his spoon and took the napkin from his neck, then stood himself and left, lovingly ruffling his son's hair as he passed him.

"Well, that was odd," said Rorimac, clearing his throat.

"Odd indeed," replied his son Saradoc, "Where d'you think they're off to?"

"Probably going for a stroll, I expect," Dodinas, one of Primula's brothers, remarked.

"At this time?" Rory shook his head, "Whatever they're doing, something's clearly happened between them. It's not often our Prim is in such a sour mood."

"Hush now," said Esmeralda, who was Saradoc's wife and a Took, and the men obeyed her without question, "Need I remind you that little Frodo is here? Gossiping about the boy's parents in front of him is not wise, not wise at all."

There was silence after that, with occasional mutters and whispers. After dinner, Rory settled Frodo into bed then went and sat in his armchair by the hearth in the parlour, smoking his pipe silently. Saradoc came in after a while and stood beside his father.

"They'll be back soon, Dad," he assured him.

"I hope you're right, Saradoc. I really do."

Primula and Drogo were in fact boating on the river (a rather absurd thing to do in moonlight, Drogo thought, but he didn't question it). They resolved the conflict between them almost immediately. They had argued over something petty, and realised now how ridiculous their actions had been that day.

"We shouldn't argue over such trivial things," Primula laughed, "People will start to gossip."

Drogo nodded and smiled, but he frowned when he heard a quiet creak from below him. He looked down at the boat and saw that there was a crack in the wood, and water was entering.

"Prim! The boat!" he said, panicked, and tried to row to the bank. But the current was too strong, and the boat was filling with water quickly. They were gradually sinking and the boat was starting to wobble.

Primula grabbed her husband's sleeve worriedly and he embraced her, kissing her brow gently. Then the boat capsized and Primula screamed, but her voice was muffled by the cold water of the river. They frantically tried to swim to the surface. It was no use. They drowned, and their bodies slowly drifted to the riverbank.

The next morning Rorimac woke with a start, and he sat up in his armchair and frowned. He told his sons that he had a bad feeling, and the three of them went out searching for the missing couple. After a couple of hours, they found Drogo and Primula washed up on the riverbank a few miles south of Brandy Hall. Rorimac wept and help his sister's body in his arms. Their clothes were torn and sodden, and their faces pale and lifeless.

"No!" Rory sobbed, "My littlest sister Primula, you can't be gone! Not dead! You're too young!"

His two sons looked down at their feet gravely, their own eyes brimming with tears.

"I'm sorry, Father," Saradoc managed to say, with a catch in his throat.

Merimac and Saradoc carried Drogo, and Rorimac took Primula. They passed by a few of their relatives as they walked through the corridors of Brandy Hall, and the news of their deaths spread quickly. They laid them down on their bed, and there was a long silence before Rorimac spoke:

"The boy. Frodo. How do we tell Frodo?"

They found the young lad playing in the gardens of Brandy Hall. He was as lively and cheerful as ever, which made Rory smile but he could not stop himself from breaking down in tears again. Saradoc offered to tell the boy himself, but Rorimac said that it was his responsibility, so his sons went to find their wives and inform them of the dreadful news.

"My dear boy," Rory called to Frodo, "Come here."

Frodo ran to him and jumped into his arms, and Rory hugged him tightly. "Why are you crying, Uncle Rory?" Frodo asked, "What's the matter?"

"My dear Frodo, there's been a little accident out on the river," Rorimac said, trying to stay calm for the boy's sake. He took Frodo inside, and the boy was worryingly silent.

When they reached his parents' room, Rory set him on the wooden floor and Frodo climbed onto the bed. He kissed his mother's forehead and shook her a little, as if to wake her, but when she did not respond he looked at his uncle fearfully.

"Why isn't she waking?" he questioned, "I want my Mama!"

Rory put his hands on the small boy's shoulders. "Your Mama and Papa drowned in the river, Frodo," he told, "They aren't going to wake up."

"They're _dead_?" Frodo wailed, and then he screamed so loudly it was heard on the other side of Brandy Hall.


	2. Moving into Bag End

The cheer that had once filled Brandy Hall seemed to vanish almost immediately after the deaths of Primula and Drogo Baggins. Primula's numerous relatives mourned in their own ways. Rorimac was seldom seen in the first few weeks. He locked himself in his office and refused to leave, often not sleeping for days at a time, but eventually he came to his senses. He cared for young Frodo as a son, but the boy was distant and quiet for a while; he was not the jolly young hobbit he used to be.

It took a long while for things to return to normal (or as normal as they could be) but things were always different. Rumours spread that the drowning had been intentional; that Primula had pushed Drogo in the river, and he had pulled her in after him. These rumours angered Rorimac a lot, and he made sure that they never reached Frodo.

Two years passed, and Esmeralda gave birth to a son. She and Saradoc named him Meriadoc, and he was what lifted Frodo's spirits at last. Frodo adored the boy, even as an infant, and they saw the lad smile for the first time in a long while.

In the following years Frodo became more of a rascal than he had ever been, often stealing crops and getting into trouble with farmers. One time he stole some mushrooms from Bamfurlong and was caught in the process, and the farmer set his three fierce dogs on him. Frodo didn't go back there any time soon.

Merry, as he was known, grew into a playful, rather naughty young lad – similar to how Frodo had been in his early years – and he became very close to his cousin Frodo. Although, he didn't get on well with his other Brandybuck cousins, especially Berilac and Merimac, who were only a little older than him. They got into skirmishes frequently, and more than often Berilac was blamed, though it was almost always Merry who had started the conflict.

A few years passed, and Frodo started to notice that Bilbo was becoming a regular visitor to Brandy Hall. He often had tea with Rorimac and would sometimes take walks with Frodo in the gardens, telling him tales of his adventures. Frodo became increasingly interested in the stories of dwarves and elves, and trolls and goblins, and the wizard Gandalf.

One day in 1389, Rory called Frodo into his office, and there Frodo saw Bilbo. He took a seat opposite him and Bilbo smiled a little.

"I've been thinking, my lad," began Bilbo, "It gets rather lonely up at Bag End by myself, and I thought that perhaps one of my young relatives would like to come and live with me."

It took Frodo a moment to realise what Bilbo meant. "Oh, you want me to come and live with you?" he asked, a little surprised.

"It would be a fresh start," said Bilbo, "A new home, new neighbours, new friends. Hobbiton is a lovely place, and the people are decent folk. Well, most of them…" He muttered something under his breath about the Sackville-Bagginses, and then looked back at Frodo with a grin. "What I'm trying to say, my boy, is your Uncle Rory and I think it would be good for you to move away from Brandy Hall, and live with me under the Hill."

"I would love to move in with you, Bilbo," Frodo sighed, "It's just, this is all very sudden, and rather unexpected."

"Well, what's the fun in expecting things?" Bilbo laughed, and Frodo smiled.

He turned to his beloved uncle and frowned. "Rory, as much as I want to move in with Bilbo, I don't want to leave you."

"Ah, my dear lad," Rory smiled at Frodo, "You can visit as often as you like, and we'll come up and visit you. Bilbo and I have been discussing this for a while, and we think it'll do you good."

"What do you say then, Frodo?" inquired Bilbo.

Frodo was silent for a while before speaking: "Yes. Yes, I'll come and live in Hobbiton with you."

Bilbo leapt out of his chair rather giddily, startling the other two a bit. "I knew you would say yes! It's decided, then. You'll be my heir, and you'll live with me at Bag End. I'll come and collect you next week!"

He dashed off, and Frodo looked at Rorimac. "_Next week_?" he asked incredulously, "I didn't think it would be so soon."

"Best to get you settled in as soon as possible, lad," said Rory, "Not that I'm trying to get rid of you or anything. You're like a son to me, Frodo Baggins."

The boy rushed over to his uncle and wrapped his arms around him. "I'm going to miss you, Uncle."

Frodo packed his belongings the night before he was due to leave with Bilbo. He mainly filled his bags with clothes and books, and he also packed a few of his toys, with the intention of giving the rest to his young cousins. He found Merry outside and the young boy grabbed hold of his legs and hugged him tightly.

"You can't leave, Frody!" the child cried, and Frodo picked him up and held him in his arms.

"Oh, but Merry, we've been over this a thousand times already," he said, "I'll come and visit all the time, I promise, and when you're old enough you can come and visit me. And besides, you have your cousins to play with."

"But I _hate_ Berilac and Merimas!" Merry protested, "And Mentha's a silly girl, and Melilot's a baby."

"Merry, if I give you some toys will you let me leave?"

Merry's eyes seemed to light up at the mention of toys. "What kind of toys?" he asked curiously.

Frodo took Merry to his bedroom and showed him some of his old playthings; a wooden dagger and a slingshot, things that he knew he shouldn't be giving to Merry, but he wanted to make his young cousin happy. Merry took hold of the dagger and stared at it, his mouth slightly open.

"This… This is for me?" he asked.

Frodo nodded and put the small slingshot in the lad's pocket. "Promise me you won't ask me to stay again?"

Merry nodded, somewhat reluctantly, then smiled. Frodo grinned back and kissed the boy's brow.

The next morning Bilbo arrived early to pick Frodo up. He had a quick breakfast and got dressed, then made his way to the front hall, escorted by Rorimac. He said goodbye to his uncle, and they both cried a little at the parting. Bilbo led Frodo to a cart and they set off for Hobbiton. The boy looked back as they rode away, and felt himself shiver nervously as they crossed the Brandywine Bridge.

The journey was quiet at first, but after a while the two hobbits began to talk. Bilbo shared more tales of his adventures, and Frodo told him his own stories, though they were nowhere near as exciting. By the end of the trip they were laughing merrily, and Bilbo even began to sing.

Frodo was in awe when they reached Hobbiton. It was wonderful. The little streams and rolling hills of the Shire were beautiful, and Hobbiton itself was a marvelous village, full of cheerfulness and life. Young hobbit children ran through the fields, and the adults worked hard whilst singing joyfully.

The cart slowed to a halt, and Bilbo pointed up at a hill. There was a large smial, its door as green as the grass with bright flowers in the garden and a tall tree at the top of the hill.

"Bag End," said Bilbo, and Frodo's face was lit with a smile, "That, my lad, is your new home."

When they reached the top of the Hill, Bilbo took Frodo inside the house and took his bags to his new room, whilst the boy looked around Bag End. It was such a lovely place, and it was filled with maps and other curious things from Bilbo's travels.

"Come in here, Frodo, come and see your room," Bilbo said from in the hallway, and Frodo followed him into a bedroom at the back of the house. It was smaller than his room at Brandy Hall and cosier, with a comfortable looking bed and a large wardrobe. There were a few books on the bed, Frodo noticed, and he picked them up.

"What are these?" he asked, "Do you want me to put them in the study?"

"No, no!" said Bilbo, "No, those are for you, my boy. Rory said you were rather fond of reading."

"I am," Frodo turned to Bilbo with a wide smile. He placed the books back down and hugged his new guardian tightly, which seemed to surprise him. "Thank you, Bilbo."

Bilbo smiled. "You're welcome, my lad."

Frodo settled in with ease, and that night Bilbo prepared a tasty supper of beef and roast potatoes with assorted vegetables, and they had sponge cake for afters. Despite missing his family back in Buckland, Frodo slept peacefully, and the next morning he woke feeling energetic and cheerful.

He walked into the parlour, where Bilbo was sat by the hearth.

"I think I'm going to explore," Frodo said, "I'll introduce myself to my new neighbours, and I might go down to the market, or up into the woods."

"You do that, my boy," said Bilbo with a smile.

As Frodo left the room, he turned his head to see Bilbo and caught a glimpse of something small in his hand; something gold and shining. He shrugged it off and left Bag End, wanting to make the most of the day as he could.


	3. Hobbiton and Bywater

Frodo found himself wandering down the Hill until he came to Bagshot Row. There children were playing on the road, chasing each other and laughing, and Frodo smiled as he passed them. He saw a boy about his own age, who grinned at him as he walked by, a glint of curiousness in his green eyes.

He continued making his way down to the main village, and towards Bywater. He came to the thriving market just outside the Green Dragon Inn. There were dozens of people there, either trading goods or socialising with other hobbits. Frodo heard someone clear their throat from behind him and he quickly moved out of the way. A stout old man walked by, pulling on a rope that was attached to a rather stubborn pig that was insistent on trying to turn back the other way.

As Frodo walked around the market, he found himself intrigued by the bright stalls around him. He bought a few goods from some of them, snacks and trinkets that he planned to share with Bilbo, and took a seat on a bench. He tucked into a juicy red apple and smiled contently as he watched hobbits walk past him.

"'Scuse me, d'you mind if I sit with you?"

Frodo was startled by the voice and looked up quickly, blinking in confusion at the unfamiliar accent. It took him a moment to comprehend what had been said. The figure stood in front of him was a lad who looked a few years older than himself, with bright green eyes and a pleasant smile.

"No, I don't mind at all," said Frodo, grinning back a little nervously. The boy nodded gratefully and took a seat beside him, looking at him curiously.

"I've not seen you 'round before," he said, "And your voice is all funny. Are you the lad Mister Bilbo was talkin' about?"

Frodo furrowed his brow. "You mean you've been expecting me?" he asked, puzzled.

"Course we have!" the boy chuckled, "It's all Bilbo's been talkin' about these past few weeks."

"But he only asked me to move in with him last week," Frodo told.

"He's been excited about you comin' to Hobbiton for ages. He told us he was sure you'd say yes."

Frodo smiled a bit at that.

"You never mentioned your name," he stated after a moment.

"Oh," the lad blew a strawberry-blond curl from his forehead, "It's Hamson. Hamson Gamgee." He grinned broadly at Frodo. "And I know your name already, you're Frodo Baggins. Came from Buckland to live with Bilbo, and I don't blame you. Queer folk live in those parts."

"Indeed," Frodo laughed quietly, "But… Buckland is still my home, and it's where my mother was born."

His smile faded as he mentioned his mother, and Hamson gave him a comforting pat on the back.

"Ah… I heard what happened all them years ago. I'm sorry you had to… Experience that."

"It's all right," said Frodo, though from the tone of his voice he seemed a little disheartened.

"Well…" Hamson could tell the conversation was becoming awkward now, "I'll see you soon, I guess. Or at least I hope so. I'm sure the rest of my family will love to meet you too. You seem like a nice lad, and my little brothers and sisters have been excited about meeting you for a while. See you, Mister Frodo."

Hamson stood and left Frodo on his own. The boy ran a hand over his dark hair, letting out a sigh. The memories of his parents' accident were hard to think about, but after all it had been ten years since their death. He'd accepted it now, though that didn't stop it from hurting.

He continued having a wander around the market, trying to take his mind off things. As he was walking, he noticed a woman with a small girl in her arms. The infant was squirming and squealing as the woman desperately tried to calm her down. Frodo let out a chuckle, thinking of his young, restless cousins back in Buckland.

Then Frodo noticed a young boy stood next to the woman, staring at him with inquisitive green eyes. They were almost identical to Hamson's and the boy's he had seen earlier today, so he wondered if the three of them were related. He smiled at the lad, but the child shied away and hid behind one of the stalls.

Frodo shook his head and decided to make his way further north. After all, he had the whole day to himself, though to be honest he wanted to talk to Bilbo later as well. He ate a few of the snacks he had bought on the way, realising that he hadn't yet eaten. Unlike most hobbits his age (or hobbits in general, he supposed) he wasn't too fond of food, though he did enjoy it on occasion, and often got distracted and forgot about meals entirely.

He strayed from the path and came to the bank of the Water, which he could not cross from that point. Instead he sat by the riverbank, gazing into the clear water thoughtfully. Being this near a river made him a little uneasy, though it was shallower than the Brandywine, and a lot narrower.

Eventually it was noon and Frodo made his way back to Bag End for luncheon, with the intention of telling Bilbo about his journey through the two villages. But when he arrived at his new home he found his older relative napping in his armchair, and he let out a chuckle.

Frodo made himself lunch, a simple meal of bread, cheese and some fruit. When Bilbo awoke from his slumber he was famished and cooked a hearty meal, and he offered it to Frodo, who declined politely.

"You sure you've had enough to eat, lad?" Bilbo asked, sounding more confused than concerned, "There's some of that lovely sponge cake in the pantry, or I could do you some eggs if you'd like."

"Just tea, thank you," Frodo responded with a nervous smile, and Bilbo quirked one of his eyebrows.

"Tea?" he questioned, "Hm, I don't know many lads your age who drink tea. Hamson, maybe, though he's a little older than you are."

"Hamson!" Frodo exclaimed, and then he blushed and looked down at the table awkwardly, "I met Hamson this morning."

"Did you? That's good. That's _very_ good. He's a lovely lad, very responsible, always helping his father out. I haven't told you about Hamfast, have I? He's our gardener."

"Oh," Frodo said simply, and he smiled at Bilbo, "What about the rest of the family? Hamson said they were excited about meeting me. And where do they live?"

"Ah, yes, the little Gamgees have been dying to meet you," chuckled Bilbo, "They live down at Number Three. Nice little house. Orange door, with lots of flowers in the front garden. Anyway, I'm getting off topic. You want to know about the family?" Frodo nodded. "Well, there's Hamfast and his wife Bell, who are both lovely, and then there's their eldest, Hamson, who you've met. Then Halfred, a boy about your age. He's rather like you, very charming and friendly."

_That'll be the boy who smiled at me at Bagshot Row, _Frodo thought to himself.

"Then there are the girls, Daisy and May. Always squabbling, those two. Can't get a word in edgeways during their little arguments. And after them are little Samwise and Marigold."

"Samwise and Marigold," Frodo repeated with a smile, "I think I saw them earlier, too. A shy boy with light hair and green eyes, and a rather feisty little blonde-haired girl?"

"That's them," said Bilbo, "Sam's a little nervous at first, yes, but he's a pleasure to be around when you get to know him. And Marigold… Well, I can tell she's going to drive her parents mad in years to come."

They both laughed, and Frodo took the items he had bought from out of his coat pockets. Bilbo examined them curiously, looking at the various trinkets and treats.

"Were these purchases really necessary?" he questioned, "Not that I mind you indulging, especially on your first day, but I don't think some of these things will be useful for you."

"I bought these for you, Uncle," Frodo told, and he blushed a little when he realised he had referred to Bilbo as his uncle. Old habit, he guessed. He was so used to being around Rory. But it Bilbo seemed touched by the gesture, and from then on Frodo made a habit of calling him Uncle Bilbo, even though he was technically his cousin.

"That was very kind of you, my dear boy," said Bilbo, as Frodo placed a leather pouch and a pot of black ink in his hand, "These will be very useful."

They spent the rest of the day in each other's company, and Frodo was very content, pleased with the knowledge he was becoming closer to Bilbo with each minute that passed. It seemed they were best friends already.


	4. Dinner at Number Three

A fortnight passed since Frodo moved into Bag End, and during that time he had explored the boundaries a bit more too, north to Overhill and south to as far as Tookland. He became closer to Hamson and his brother Halfred, though he was yet to be properly introduced to their parents and four other siblings: Daisy, May, Samwise and Marigold.

He spent a lot of time with Halfred during his first few weeks in Hobbiton, and the two of them became good friends. Bilbo had been right in saying that they were very similar; they were both friendly and relaxed, which made it easy for them to get along with each other. Halfred was a jolly lad, though perhaps not the smartest boy Frodo had known. But that didn't matter much to him since they were friends, and Halfred's kindness was far more important than his intelligence in Frodo's eyes.

"I was wonderin'," Halfred said to him one day, "Whether you'd like to come round to dinner tonight. It'd give you a chance to meet the family. They seem eager to be introduced to you, especially the little ones."

Frodo considered the offer for a moment before nodding with a smile. "I'd love to come for dinner, Halfred."

"Good. I'm glad," replied Halfred with a broad grin, "I'll see you around six o'clock tonight?

Frodo nodded again, and Halfred nodded back.

"See you later, then. Goodbye, Frodo."

That afternoon Frodo informed Bilbo about his invitation for dinner, and it seemed that his older relative was rather pleased about the idea. Bilbo spent a while babbling about how great it was that Frodo was finally going to be introduced to the Gamgees. He was very fond of them, Frodo noted. He found this a bit strange, considering the obvious differences between the Bagginses and the Gamgees. After all, the Baggins family was wealthy and respectable (or at least it had been, before Bilbo's adventures) and the Gamgees, despite being pleasant enough, did not have the same important status.

Frodo dressed casually and smartly for the dinner, wearing brown breeches and a blue waistcoat over his white shirt. When he came out of his bedroom and walked into the sitting room, Bilbo let out a chuckle and commented on his outfit, saying that Frodo's taste in clothes was beyond his years.

"What do you mean?" Frodo asked him.

"Well," said Bilbo, "Most lads your age would never wear a smart waistcoat like that unless they were forced to. I remember when I was a boy, my mother used to make me wear all kinds of fancy garments…"

Frodo let Bilbo ramble on, though he didn't pay much attention to the story. When it was about six o'clock he said farewell to his 'Uncle' Bilbo and set off down the Hill to Bagshot Row. Halfred was waiting outside number three to meet him, seemingly eager about the occasion, though he looked a little nervous too.

"Evenin'," Halfred greeted Frodo.

Frodo responded with a smile and a curt nod.

"Hello Halfred," he said, "It was very nice of you to invite me round here tonight."

"Ah, it's nothin', we all wanted you to come anyways," chuckled Halfred, "Come on inside! My little brother and sisters are desperate to meet you."

Halfred led his guest inside and to the kitchen. Three Bagshot Row was a small albeit quaint and cosy smial, with a certain charm to it. It was decorated simply but it was neat and well looked after. It was clear to Frodo that the Gamgees took pride in their lovely little home, even though it was nothing compared to Bag End, or Brandy Hall for that matter. The homes Frodo was used to were much larger and grander, so he was unaccustomed to houses like this one.

The kitchen was a reasonable size with a long table in the centre of the room, where four of the other Gamgee children were seated. A rather busty woman, presumably the childrens' mother, was stood beside the stove with Marigold in her arms, and leaning against the back wall and smoking was a man who Frodo supposed was Hamfast.

As Halfred and Frodo entered, the children at the table stopped chatting and turned to look at them curiously. Frodo saw Hamson, who grinned and nodded at him politely. Opposite Hamson were two fair young lasses (Daisy and May, Frodo thought they must be) and next to him was the youngest boy, Samwise. Sam stared at Frodo through his apple-green eyes with an inquisitive intensity, and Frodo smiled at him. The little lad was rather sweet, he thought.

"Everyone, this is Frodo Baggins," stated Halfred, "He's Mister Bilbo's adopted heir."

"Well, hullo there, young Master Frodo!" Hamfast greeted him, taking the pipe from his mouth, "A pleasure it is to meet you at last!"

"Some of us have already met him, Dad," said Hamson.

The childrens' mother, Bell, approached Frodo with a smile. "It's nice to finally meet you, Frodo Baggins," she told him, "My boys Hamson and Halfred haven't stopped talking about you since they met you for the first time, and the rest of them have been dying to meet you too."

"That's lovely of you to say," Frodo replied, letting out a quiet, anxious laugh, "It's wonderful to meet you too, Mrs Gamgee."

"Oh, call me Bell, please! And take a seat, if you will. Dinner's almost done."

Frodo awkwardly sat at the table next to Hamson, and Halfred sat opposite him. Bell introduced him to the children, smiling at him as she did so. In fact all of the family were smiling, except Samwise who looked somewhat like a startled rabbit, and little Marigold who was absent-mindedly playing with one of her mother's curls.

"He's handsomer than I thought he'd be," Frodo heard Daisy whisper to May, who giggled at her sister's words. He grinned to himself and shook his head, blushing a little at the compliment, even though he wasn't supposed to have heard it.

"Ma, what're we havin' for dinner?" Halfred enquired.

"I told you before, Hal," said Bell, "We're having fried fish and roasted 'taters."

Sam's eyes seemed to light up at the mention of 'taters'.

"With veggies too, of course," added Hamson, "Carrots and peas, right Ma?"

"Yes, Hamson. That's okay with you, Frodo?"

Frodo nodded and smiled graciously. "That's marvelous, thank you. It sounds delightful."

"Oh, you Bagginses and your fancy words," Hamfast muttered. He took another drag of pipe-weed and began to laugh merrily. "Mister Bilbo's just the same! Always using silly words, he is."

"All right, that's enough, Hamfast," Bell chuckled. She walked over to Hamson and put young Marigold on his lap. "Be a good lad and hold her for a second whilst I get the food out of the oven."

The meal was delicious in a rustic sort of way. It tasted fresh and simple, though it was seasoned superbly with salt and herbs. It was a comforting and filling meal, and Frodo was very satisfied. They had strawberries for afters and then had a pleasant conversation. Daisy and May in particular were very talkative, though Sam didn't speak much at all, which worried Frodo a little.

Right before he left, Frodo approached Samwise and knelt down to his level, smiling at him warmly.

"I don't think I ever got a chance to properly say hello to you," he noted, and he held out his hand for the young boy to shake, "I'm Frodo."

Sam gingerly took hold of Frodo's hand and shook it very gently. "Sam," he whispered, and Frodo nodded.

"Well, Sam," he said, "It's been an honour to meet you and your family. I'll come and visit again soon, all right?"

"All right," Sam responded, and he smiled broadly at the boy in front of him.

"Soon then, Samwise Gamgee. I'll see you very soon."


	5. Mathoms and Merrymaking

Summer passed and before long it was autumn. Frodo spent the time playing with his new friends, reading in the woods and further exploring the Westfarthing of the Shire. He occasionally got into trouble though he had matured a lot since moving into Bag End, and was less eager to steal crops or play pranks.

In late September, when the autumn leaves were starting to fall, Frodo and Bilbo celebrated their joint birthday. It was an odd and rather amusing coincidence, Frodo thought, that both of them were born on the 22nd of September. There must have been some sort of connection between them, he supposed. Perhaps their fates had always been intertwined, and Frodo had been destined from birth to move in with Bilbo. Or maybe Frodo was just a little too imaginative.

They had organised a party and invited a lot of hobbits to attend, though Frodo was most excited about seeing his Brandybuck relatives again. His Uncle Rory had been sorely missed by him, and he longed to see his cousins again too, especially little Meriadoc, who never failed to make him smile.

So when the party came around and Frodo saw Rorimac he, understandably, threw his arms around his dear uncle and hugged him tightly, almost crying because of the overwhelming feeling of joy bubbling in his stomach.

"Rory!" he exclaimed.

"Oh, my dear boy!" said Rory with a loving smile, "Frodo, my lad, I have missed you."

"I've missed you too, Uncle Rory. It's such a relief to see you again," Frodo responded, "My time in Hobbiton so far has been wonderful, but I do find myself wishing I was back at Brandy Hall sometimes."

"I understand, Frodo. Moving away must have been very hard for you," Rorimac let out a sigh, "But it's for the best, you know?"

Frodo nodded, and the pair smiled cheerfully at each other. Rory was someone extremely important in Frodo's life and he wasn't sure where he would be without him. He had been like a father to him; living away from him was the hardest thing in the world. But at the same time Frodo was starting to become closer to Bilbo, and their bond already seemed remarkably strong.

"Frody!"

The sudden giddy shriek from behind him made Frodo jump, and he quickly rushed over to the young boy who was running towards him excitedly.

"Merry!" he said, scooping the lad up in his arms, "My little cousin Merry!"

"Look, Frody! I have your sword!"

Merry proudly took the wooden dagger from his belt and held it up, almost prodding Frodo's eye in the process. Frodo laughed contentedly and placed his cousin back down, then ruffled his hair.

"Well, I'm glad to see you're enjoying playing with it, even if it is a little dangerous," he teased.

"I'm very dangerous!" Merry announced with a pout, folding his arms, "I've killed hundreds of orcs with this sword, like Bilbo did!"

"Oh, so I take it he's been telling you some of his stories? Do you like them, Mer?"

"Yes! They're very exciting. I want to go on an a'venture too! Frody, can I? Can I go on an a'venture?"

"Maybe you can go on an adventure one day, Merry," said Frodo.

"We can go on an a'venture together, and we can kill orcs and be brave and… And slay dragons!"

Frodo chuckled and nodded. "Yes, Mer, we'll slay some dragons too. But for now I think you had better practise your sword-fighting skills."

Merry darted off to 'practise' and Frodo made his way back to Rory, who was now talking to Bilbo. They were discussing Mathoms, which were the names given to things that didn't have much use but hobbits were unwilling to throw them away. Mathoms were generally given away to guests at birthday parties, and Bilbo had been handing out trinkets to some of the attendees that evening.

"I was just saying, Frodo," Bilbo began as Frodo reached them, "That this silly custom of handing out gifts on your birthday is rather inconvenient."

"But Bilbo, it _is_ tradition after all," countered Frodo, "And it's the least you can do since all of these people have come to the party."

"Exactly! Their gift is the privilege of attending. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a party to host."

Frodo spent some time talking to his Uncle Rory about his new life in Hobbiton, and then he danced for a while with some of his friends. He found Samwise and greeted him cheerfully. The boy was still a little nervous around him, however he had gained more confidence and now the two of them were good friends. Frodo considered introducing Sam to Merry, but he realised after a moment that this might not be such a good idea.

"Happy birthday, Mister Frodo," Sam congratulated him.

"Thank you, Sam, but how many times have I told you? You don't have to call me _Mister_ Frodo. Just Frodo is fine."

"B-but I want to call you Mister Frodo, Mister Frodo," said Sam.

Frodo tutted and shook his head, but smiled nonetheless. "Well, all right then, but I don't really think it suits me, is all."

"How d'you mean?" the young lad queried, tilting his head to one side curiously.

"Oh, never mind that now, dear Sam," Frodo replied with a laugh.

"Are you… Are you having a good day?"

"It's been great, thank you very much. I saw my Uncle Rory again for the first time in a while, and my little cousin Meria-"

"What about me?"

Frodo sighed when he heard his young relative's voice and turned around to face him. "You know, you have an awful habit of appearing out of nowhere, Merry Brandybuck," he stated.

"I heard my name!" Merry retorted, and then he looked at Sam nosily, "Who are you?"

"This is Samwise Gamgee, Merry," said Frodo. He noticed that Sam was starting to cautiously back away, and he took a reassuring hold of his hand and smiled down at him, "It's okay, Sam. He won't bite…" He paused, "Probably."

"I'm not going to bite anyone," said Merry, sounding confused, "I'm going now. I'm bored."

He wandered off again and Frodo giggled, amused by his cousin's odd behaviour. Sam, who still looked quite distressed about the whole thing, clutched tightly onto his hand and looked up at him worriedly.

"Sam, you're quite shy, aren't you?"

"I-I'm not shy!" Sam insisted, "I just get a bit scared when I meet new people."

"So you _are_ shy," concluded Frodo, "It's nothing to be embarrassed about. Anyway, do you want to come and dance with me?"

"I'm not really very good at dancing," Sam told him, "I-I think I might go and find my Ma. I'm tired."

"Fine then. Well, I'll see you soon, Sam. Sleep well."

"Buh-bye, Mister Frodo, have a nice rest-of-your-birthday!"

When Sam had gone, Frodo went off to find Merry again. He discovered that his cousin had been causing mischief, stealing food and pulling pranks on other children.

"You're a rascal, Merry," Frodo said to him, "Just like I was at your age, I suppose."

He gave him an apple, knowing that was Merry's favourite fruit. He pretended that it was a Mathom because honestly he wasn't sure what else to give to his young cousin. Merry accepted the gift gratefully, and then Bilbo began his speech.

The speech was short, to-the-point and entertaining. It was one of Bilbo's birthday traditions to give a speech, however short they were. Frodo decided not to join in, though, since he wasn't too fond of being the centre of attention. He preferred to stick to himself rather than announcing his birthday to the whole crowd.

Once the speech was over, Frodo bumped into a stern looking middle-aged woman with a rather flamboyant outfit and a bright green umbrella. She scowled at him, making him shudder.

"So you're Bilbo's new heir," she hissed, "I've heard _a lot _about you."

Frodo blinked, confused. "That's good, or at least I think it is," he replied.

"Allow me to introduce myself, little boy. My name is Lobelia Sackville-Baggins, and my family are the rightful heirs to Bag End."

"Erm, well…"

"My husband Otho and I were appalled to hear that Bilbo had taken you in. You know what that means, don't you? It means you get the house once the old fool dies. I tell you now, _Baggins_, that house should be mine and I'll do anything I can to-"

"Lobelia! What a _lovely_ surprise!" Bilbo suddenly interrupted Lobelia's lecture, and Frodo sighed in relief, "I'm afraid Frodo and I will have to make a move. I'm very sorry, but we have some important business to attend to…"

He started to drag Frodo away by his sleeve and Lobelia stared at them incredulously, her mouth agape.

"What was all that about?" Frodo asked.

"Never mind that now, I have someone for you to meet," Bilbo told him.

"What? Who?"

"Wait and see!"

Bilbo led him all the way back to Bag End and through to the sitting room. There, sat in an armchair and smoking a pipe, was a man with a long grey beard, bushy eyebrows and a pointed hat. He was clad in grey and there was a wooden staff propped up against the chair. When he saw Bilbo and Frodo enter the room, he smiled at them and nodded.

Frodo stared at him, puzzled and in awe. He was so tall, about twice Frodo's height, and it made him seem rather intimidating.

"Frodo, my dear boy," said Bilbo, "This is my old friend Gandalf."

"Gandalf!" Frodo gasped, "The wizard?!"

"Yes, yes that's me," the bearded man chuckled, "And what a pleasure it is to meet you, Frodo Baggins. Any hobbit Bilbo thinks is worthy of being his heir must be a very special young hobbit indeed."

Frodo blushed, flattered by Gandalf's words. "Th-thank you, Gandalf," he stuttered nervously, "Nice to meet you too, um, Bilbo's told me a lot about you. Though, you're not quite how I expected you to be."

"Really? How so?" the wizard questioned.

"Oh, it's nothing," said Frodo, not wanting to tell him the truth and appear rude, "B-but it really is wonderful to meet you at last."

Bilbo smiled and patted his younger relative's shoulder. "It's getting late, my boy. You should get some rest."

"Okay. Yes, you're right, Bilbo. I'll go and get some sleep," He walked to the door and then turned back, "Goodnight, Uncle. And you, Gandalf."

He walked into the hallway and loitered there for a moment before retiring to his room, catching a part of Bilbo and Gandalf's conversation:

"Uncle, hmm?" he heard Gandalf inquire.

"What can I say," Bilbo replied, "I think the lad has really taken to me. And I'm glad. He really is an excellent boy, Gandalf. I'm sure he'll prove that to you soon enough."


End file.
